


Sharing pains and not joys

by Kaesteranya



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And then, while we're hidden away from the world's eyes...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing pains and not joys

**Author's Note:**

> …I call this my attempt to try and do 6927 pseudo-fluff while sticking with my understanding of Mukuro’s character. I hope I didn’t fail too badly. @_@ The title, by the way, is taken from the 31 Days theme for July 27, 2008.

Rokudo Mukuro pulled his trident out of his last kill for the day once the body stopped twitching and breathing – he had, over the years, learned to skewer his enemies and wait it out with them impaled at the end of his weapon if he could afford it, just to make sure that they _stayed_ dead. There was also the small amount of pleasure he could derive from watching his target writhe and flop about in its last moment, although Mukuro was careful not to mention that bit too much to his family members. Most of them were almost always upset with him and his “talk”.

 

Mukuro took one last look at the sea of bodies all around him before turning away, slipping into a corridor already filled with men from the Vongola. He brushed past the Rain Guardian as he chatted with some of his subordinates, past the Sun Guardian and his boisterous voice, past the sleepy-eyed Thunder Guardian and his bazooka, past the Cloud Guardian perched on another windowsill, and into another hallway, where there was no one but the Storm Guardian and the Vongola Tenth himself. Theirs was, Mukuro decided with a single glance, a most undignified position.

 

“I did not know that a boss of your stature would allow himself to be coddled by one of his subordinates.”

 

“Mukuro! Don’t you _dare_ disrespect the Tenth!”

 

The first thing Gokudera Hayato naturally did was flare up with righteous indignation at Mukuro’s words, and promptly prove Mukuro’s point by not moving from where he was squatting on the floor beside his boss, holding the latter’s hand. The Mist Guardian eyed the entwined hands with visible disgust before focusing his attentions, once more, on Sawada Tsunayoshi. The young man looked pathetically small and broken at that moment, slumped against the wall with his arms over his knees. His gauntlets were almost completely stained in the blood of hundreds.

 

“You are wasting time here, Vongola. Do you not have things that need to get done?”

 

“Ah… of course, Mukuro-san. Thank you for reminding me.” Tsuna rose to his feet, holding on to Gokudera for support; the younger man brushed the dust off of his pants, and squared his gaze up to offer Mukuro a thankful look and a shaky smile. His skin was pale, much paler than it ought to have been. Mukuro sniffed and turned away.

 

“I’ll be waiting downstairs. Hurry up.”

 

And he left the corridor, to the sound of Gokudera cursing him every step of the way.

 

The trip back to the mansion was an uneventful one, and Mukuro gave control of his body back over to Chrome Dukuro during the briefing – he was starting to grow tired of everyone’s prattle, and he was not about to subject himself to more torture by sitting through a ridiculously long meeting full of nothing. He did, however, lurk just behind Chrome’s consciousness, monitoring the proceeding through her eyes – he noticed, then, the way Tsuna looked as though he was on the brink of falling apart. It had been eight years since he had taken up the reigns of the Vongola Boss, and yet missions involving the death and destruction of the family’s rivals never failed to shake him.

 

When the meeting ended and Tsuna quietly excused himself, Mukuro brushed his fingers across Chrome’s mind, coaxing her to relinquish control and give it over to him. The girl obeyed without question, and Mukuro only smirked at Gokudera’s incredulous look when he appeared again in tip-top form. At another time, he might have stayed to torment the Storm Guardian a little more, since it was oh-so-easy to upset him. As it was, Mukuro had more important things to attend to.

 

He found Tsuna in the bathroom of his chambers, shivering and naked and all alone in a tub far too big for a single person. The young man did not look up at Mukuro’s entrance, even though the latter had made sure to make his presence obvious – the only indication that he gave about knowing that he was no longer alone was a slight, almost imperceptible turn of his head. That suited Mukuro just fine; the Mist Guardian stripped himself of his clothes and slipped into the tub, right behind his young boss. He pressed close enough to take the scent of his skin in, and the sight of his battle scars.

 

“Torturing yourself again, aren’t you, Vongola?”

 

“They didn’t have to die.”

 

“I doubt that it matters now.”

 

That closeness was their secret; their affections, strange and beautiful. Mukuro used to rail against it with everything he had, telling himself that he was only interested in seeing the Vongola Family fall and feeling Sawada Tsuyanoshi die in his arms at the end of it, consigning his body over to Mukuro to do as he liked with it. While that particular desire of his had not died, it had certainly tempered itself into another form, one that allowed him to be kind only to this single, fragile, anomaly of a boy.

 

Mukuro felt Tsuna tremble in his arms, promptly drawing him out of his thoughts. The Mist Guardian drew the boy in, pressing that body against him until he could no longer be certain which one of them was shaking.

 

“Let yourself be weak. You’ll need to pretend again tomorrow.”

 

 _Let yourself be weak because I am here._

 

Mukuro never spoke the words; he did not have to. His embrace was more than enough.


End file.
